To Become a Woman
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Sometimes about everything goes amiss, and someone unanticipated is there to aid. -REWRITTEN!


"Miss Granger?" Minerva voiced, eyebrow quirking upon seeing the younger Gryffindor purposefully slowly gathering all of her appurtenances, while the others appeared to try hurry away as soon as possible. This wasn't very odd, considering Transfigurations had been the very last lesson for the day for the first year Gryffindors, and the tables in the Great Hall would be loaded with dinner very soon. What was rather odd, was the fact that Hermione Granger couldn't seem to really care, and wasn't doing any effort to leave very soon. "What's the matter?" She questioned, rather worriedly. She easily wiped the greenboard clean of the instructions that had appeared on it at the beginning of the lesson with a wave of her hand, performing a bit of wand-less magic. She then rose from her seat, walking over to the desk which Hermione usually occupied, like today. The girl's gaze was turned down, and thus Minerva cautiously raised the younger girl's chin with one hand, teal green eyes leveling with hazel ones.

"No offense, Professor McGonagall, but I sometimes wonder if you knew, what you were really doing when you came down to deliver my Hogwarts Letter, and informed my mother and father and me about it… I don't belong here at all."

Minerva intuitively waved her wand to close the door, while casting a _Muffliato_ altogether. "Is that what you believe?"

"No, it is what I know. I really try about everything in my power to make up for my heritage by reading, and reciting, and… but everyone just considers me a know-it-all. Others clutter together so easily, and I'm left alone. Mid October, and it feels like I have achieved nothing!"

"Miss Granger. You were the only one who succeeded turning a rock into a needle, and not many first years manage that after half an hour. You're a natural if it comes to Transfigurations, and the first to come by in years. You are unmistakably better than even the first year pupils with Wizarding heritage, and I'm sure the same goes for other courses, too."

At that, Hermione began crying. "I know, but why does it feel like I have achieved nothing then? My mom and dad allowed me this opportunity, even though not entirely sure what their daughter was getting into with this. You have tried well to give an idea about what it is all like, and I often thought about that what you said, but it isn't anything like I would have imagined. And I don't know if that's for the good or the bad. I would like to make them proud."

"I'm sure that you do."

"I don't know…" Hermione whispered. "I just… feel so very lonely, and I miss them. I have never been away from home for longer than a couple of days."

Minerva nodded. "Would you care for a cup of coffee over in my rooms, dear?"

Hermione shyly nodded.

"How did your very first week here at Hogwarts go over?" Hermione carefully asked, gratefully accepting the cup of hot tea her professor offered her. She quietly raised it to take a sip. Minerva appeared to be in deep thought. "I'm… I'm sorry, Professor. You don't have to…" she began.

"I was just recalling it," Minerva said, taking a sip herself, and putting her cup down on the table. "It surely has been quite a while. However, there's something that I'll never forget, and that's how I already succeeded to made a fool of myself the very first day, with my very first lesson." She could immediately see Hermione's mouth open to ask more, and replied to the unspoken question, "Defense Against the Dark Arts. I hadn't noticed that my left shoe lace had come undone, and first thing I did when I walked into the room was trip, and fall face down right at Professor Merrythought's feet. I was teased with it for weeks… usually by the Slytherins that had Defense Against the Dark Arts with me, and had seen it happen, but sometimes even first year Gryffindors like me, too."

"Did you…?" Did you eventually have companions?

Minerva nodded, opening her mouth to reply Hermione's unfinished question, when she could obviously see the girl's face contorting with something between shock and pain. "Miss Granger, are you all right? " She questioned, eyebrow quirking in mild worry.

Hermione immediately nodded, shoving off the question as nothing. "I'm fine," she said. "I just need to use the bathroom."

"First door on your left," Minerva said, nodding in the direction of her personal bathroom. Hermione at once shot up, nearly running over in the direction Minerva had indicated rather strangely, and leaving Minerva to raise her eyebrow higher at the unusual behavior. She quietly reached over to take her tea again, and sipped from it.

By the time Minerva had depleted her cup of tea, the younger Gryffindor still hadn't returned from the bathroom; something which Minerva considered rather odd. She thus slowly rose, and walked in the direction of the locked bathroom door, listening carefully. Her Animagus senses immediately picked up the sound of someone crying on the other side, and she could no longer contain her worry. "Miss Granger, are you all right in there?" She asked.

"I'm f-fine," it weakly sounded on the inside, barely audible. Minerva choose not to voice her lack of conviction about that answer.

After another while the door of the bathroom cracked open again, revealing Hermione Granger. The red, puffy sight of her eyes convinced Minerva easily that indeed the girl must have been crying. The girl nearly ran over to the couch again, reaching down to gather her bag, and turning over to her professor again. "I have got to go now. I really liked the tea, Professor."

"Why?" Minerva questioned, not quite getting her pupil's sudden hurry. "You have barely touched it," she added, nodding to the cup of tea in question. Hermione intuitively bit down on her bottom lip, unable to figure what to do. She quietly watched as her Transfiguration Professor walked over to where she stood, a far softer side than she showed as a teacher and Deputy Headmistress coming through in her countenance, her eyes, and even the way she walked, and talked. As the otherwise so authoritarian Transfigurations Professor reached to lie her hand upon the younger girl's shoulder, she immediately looked down trying to keep her tears in check. She just wished her mom was there… "I don't believe that you are all right for more than one reason," Minerva said. At that, Hermione just couldn't keep her tears at bay any longer. Her mom usually knew when something was amiss right away as well…

"I really needed this to happen right now," Hermione cried. "It just makes it even worse."

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, leading the younger girl to sit down on the couch again. Worry was very visible in her eyes by then. Hermione's bag fell down again, as Minerva came to sit by her.

A silence overtook both females, until Hermione eventually took a deep, steadying intake of air, and raised her eyes to meet Minerva's. "In a way of saying I just became a woman, and ironically enough I don't know what to do."

Minerva nodded, understanding. Hermione was rather young to be having a first menstruation. She was about three years younger than Minerva herself had been then. It had certainly been a while, yet she easily recalled how confused and scared she herself had felt. And she had been home in the summer holidays when it first had occurred. She could easily imagine how Hermione must feel – barely eleven, in an entirely new atmosphere without her mother or even father, where she didn't really know others whom she could confide in. Minerva sighed, knowing she could not leave Hermione suffering in silence. Her voice dropped to a rather unusual, and by the majority of pupils unheard, soft whisper. "How would you feel about having a shower, and have something to eat here with me in my rooms? You don't have to go down to the Great Hall if you feel more comfortable here. How would you feel about that?"

Hermione shyly nodded, waiting a while until speaking. "I have really no idea what's going on with me. I have been crying more easily as of late, and then usually for nothing at all. I have been having mood swings, and…" she began, but eventually trailed off. Her professor would consider her plain insane. She was very likely just imagining things either way.

However, Minerva McGonagall smiled carefully. "That's normal, Hermione," she said. "That's something called PMT. A couple of days ahead of your menstruation, you may experience things like that. You might feel more headachy than usual, or experience early abdominal muscle tensions. You might be more emotionally sensitive. That's all very normal, and not that uncommon."

"It is?" Hermione questioned, thoroughly surprised. "My…" but then she trailed off once again. Sure, Hermione had been taught some basics about sexuality and such like that in school about two years earlier. Her mother had told her one day that if she wanted to know more, she could ask her about it, but Hermione had never taken her up on it. Both of them had likely assumed that she knew enough for the time being. This would be the one subject she hadn't really dared borrow books about in the library, and thus never read anything about.

Minerva nodded, understanding. "You know what a menstrual cycle is, and you know what it means, don't you?" She asked, and saw Hermione nod. "Good. Every woman experiences this otherwise, but you'll most likely be experiencing some tummy ache and back pain while it lasts, especially in the beginning, due to your womb contracting. Some women experience nausea as well. The amount of pain and the manifestations vary. Some women need the aid of pain relief potions this time of the month. Others barely feel it." Hermione nodded, already knowing she unfortunately did not belong with the last category of women. It was as if Minerva could read her mind. "It might get better with time, dear. After a few times you learn to recognize when you're about to menstruate and you know just what to anticipate. You'll know what type of sanitary pads or tampons you'll feel most comfortable with at what point in your cycle. You may use different types while it lasts, since you usually bleed worse in the beginning and at night, because you can't go and change every few hours," Minerva added upon seeing the girl's confused countenance.

"How do you… know what type to use?"

"You'll learn that in time. It just takes a bit of experimenting in the beginning."

"I don't have any…" Hermione began.

"Oh," Minerva said. "That's easy to solve." With an easy looking wave of her wand, she quietly summoned a box, allowing it to land in her lap. She quietly pulled the lid away, and passed the box onto Hermione's lap. "You should be able to find something suitable in here," she said with a careful smile in the direction of the girl, who just eyed her wearily. Were there more differences between the pads in the box, other than the colors of the wrappers? She quietly took an orange sanitary napkin, and gazed up at her professor questioningly. "I would say that's suitable if you're not bleeding so much," McGonagall said, then pointed at another, green one. "That one's quite similar, but a bit more absorbing. The pinkish ones are like the green ones, but winged so these remain in place a bit better, like the light blue ones, which are most absorbing. The darker blue ones are meant to use at night especially."

"Oh…" Hermione uttered, putting up a rather serious face while exchanging for a light blue pad instead. Minerva's eyebrow quirked in worry upon seeing that, but she didn't say anything.

"You can use my bathroom if you'd like," Minerva quietly offered, waving her wand to conjure a set of comfortable – unmistakably tartan – flannel pajamas, an ecru sleeveless top to wear underneath and a pair of clean white cotton panties. "You should be able to find all you need in there. Please feel free to use all you wish," she added, as the pile of clean clothes landed on the younger girl's lap.

Hermione gratefully nodded, getting up, and moving in the direction of the bathroom when the Deputy Headmistress suddenly called her name. Hermione turned to look at her, and her cheeks immediately reddened, while accepting the light blue sanitary pad, then resuming her way to the bathroom, and disappearing in it until twenty minutes later.

By that time, Minerva had finished up reading through the essays of the third year Hufflepuffs. She slowly gazed up at Hermione from her position on the couch, easily waving her wand to banish the mess of used clothes in Hermione's arms. "I have sent them up to your dorm," she said, watching Hermione's mouth open to ask what she'd done. The professor then noticed Hermione's bare feet, waving her wand once more to make a fluffy pinkish pair of pantofles appear on her feet. Hermione intuitively trailed her gaze down, and wiggled her toes in the pantofles, giggling loud. "Are you in pain?" Minerva asked, as the girl slowly moved to join her on the couch. Hermione quietly nodded, reaching for her lower abdomen. Minerva calmly conjured and offered her a vial of violet potion, and watched as the girl poured it down her throat, handing the vial to her professor again, who vanished it with her wand. "I know that it is not the best tasting potion," Minerva added, upon seeing Hermione's disgusted countenance, "but it is one of the best, fastest and longest working I have got." Hermione just nodded. "Are you tired?" She asked.

"A little," Hermione admitted, "but I don't wanna go to my dorm or…"

Minerva nodded. "Why don't you lie down comfortably with your head on my lap for a little while?" She suggested. Hermione seemed insecure. "That's okay," Minerva added, and watched as her cub carefully laid down with her head on her professor's lap, curling up as much as was possible for one reason or another. She uncomfortably shifted with occasional winces until she had finally succeeded in finding the most comfortable position, and closed her eyes.

Minerva quietly began humming a song her mother used to sing when she was very ill or couldn't sleep, as she carefully massaged the younger girl's lower back through the pajamas, her other hand calmly trailing through the girl's hair. Within a few minutes the young Gryffindor had fallen asleep on her. Minerva quietly passed on to correcting the essays of the fourth year Ravenclaws, careful not to disturb the young girl's sleep.

Two hours later a rather familiar knocking came to the door of Minerva's personal chambers. She would not be able to get up without waking Hermione who was rather comfortable resting in her professor's lap, and thus she easily waved her wand to open the door, and revealed her best companion and superior Albus Dumbledore. Minerva slowly raised one finger to her lips to show him to be quiet. Albus had meant to ask why she hadn't been there in the Great Hall for dinner, but found the reason literally lying there in her lap. He smiled, nodding quietly, and leaving without even one word.

Surely you had to know Minerva McGonagall to see another, softer side of her than that stoic façade she usually put up while teaching. She had once told him this appeared to be the only manner to allow no nonsense in her lessons, and nonsense was something she didn't easily tolerate. Few pupils would be able to imagine that softer, caring side of their Deputy Headmistress, and yet she was the most loyal and caring Head of House he had ever met if it concerned her cubs. The scene in her rooms a couple of minutes earlier was only more evidence of that.


End file.
